


Bestest Bestest Best

by KrisseyCrystal (AisukuriMuStudio)



Series: Sormik Week 2017 [1]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mason is mentioned, Sormik Week 2017, Young Mikleo, Young Sorey, and Mikleo still wouldn't leave his side, light Soymilk, pre-game, remember that time Sorey and Mikleo mentioned that when they were younger, there was a time Sorey was bedridden for two weeks, ye good times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisukuriMuStudio/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: All the most timeless romances have to start somewhere.For Sorey and Mikleo, it started with becoming best friends first.Sormik Week 2017 - Day 1: Elysia, Innocence/Beginnings





	Bestest Bestest Best

“ _Sorey_! Are you all right?”

It was bad. It _looked_ bad. One moment, Sorey was there and they were laughing, making up the names of eras that would fit the history of these ruins on the outskirts of Elysia’s meadow as they lolled around on the grass at the cliff’s edge. The next, he was pale, and the ground was rumbling underneath his booted feat. One moment, they were having fun and Sorey was smiling—the next, he was gone.

The sight of Sorey falling had a bizarre, filmy sensation to it. It wasn’t right; it wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet it had.

Mikleo sprang into motion. As quick as he could, he scrambled to scale down the cliff and join his friend on the grassy surf beneath the crumbling ledge Sorey had fallen from. His hands shook as he climbed, trying not to slip.

“Y-yeah,” Sorey muttered. His voice was quiet and tight.

Mikleo swallowed and sped up as much as he dared. “I’m almost there..! Hold on!”

“I’m okay.”

Mikleo waited until he had reached the bottom to answer _that._ He turned around and jogged to Sorey’s side, but the fellow ten-year-old was already shakily pushing himself to his feet. Mikleo watched, hands outstretched to catch him just in case.

Something in Sorey’s eyes shone brightly as he straightened up and stood there.

Mikleo watched him carefully, hands still extended. “Can you walk…?”

Sorey swallowed and nodded. He stepped forward, wobbled, and then straightened up. His breath hitched oddly. It did not escape Mikleo’s notice the way his shoulders shook; it drew his attention to the way his friend stood:  with one foot firm on the ground and the other, idly hovering just above the grass.

“Sorey…?”

“Um.” Sorey’s voice wobbled. It was a long moment of tense, uncertain silence before he spoke again. “M-Mikleo, can…can you get Gramps?”

Mikleo’s heart fell. Ice spread throughout his chest. “Is—is it that bad? Are you okay?”

All at once, the young seraph could hear all the warnings Zenrus had ever given him before they had gone out to play:  _Be careful, Mikleo. Humans aren’t like us. They can’t do all that we can, so you must be gentle with him._

“I…” A hesitant swallow. Out of the blue, Sorey winced and reached up a small, scratched hand to the side of his chest. “I...I don’t know.”

Mikleo didn’t know whether to ask him what that meant. “Okay,” he said back with more courage than he felt. “I’ll—I’ll go get him, then. Don’t…don’t move. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

True to his word, Sorey stayed put and in his exact position with one foot hovering above the ground and his hand pressed to his side when Mikleo finally returned with Zenrus. His face was tighter than it had been when Mikleo left him; his skin was drawn and paler. But he didn’t move, not even an inch.

It was perhaps the most carefully still Mikleo had ever seen his friend.

Two weeks.

Zenrus told the both of them once Sorey had been carefully carried back to the village and tended to and brought to a bed, Mikleo by his side resolutely all the while. It would be two weeks before Sorey was allowed to be up and moving around again—and not a day sooner, else they might make his injuries worse.

“Extensive damage to his ribs and his right leg,” Zenrus had huffed quietly afterwards, just outside of Sorey’s hut once the boy was finally resting. He chewed more than smoked on the end of his pipe. “I can’t even begin to fathom how you boys managed _this_.”

Mikleo couldn’t either and he had been there.

He walked into Sorey’s room after Zenrus left and tried to forget what had happened. For as scary and adrenaline-pumping as the fall had been, it was strangely quiet that first night Sorey was confined to his bed. Perhaps the perfect atmosphere for getting lost in a book or trying to sleep like Sorey.

But to his surprise, Sorey wasn’t sleeping.

Those green eyes looked up as soon as the door closed behind Mikleo and at the sight, Mikleo felt guilt eat away at him.

“Gramps said you should be sleeping,” he pointed out.

Sorey sighed. “…Yeah, but Gramps says a lot of things.”

Mikleo padded over with socked feet to his friend’s bedside. He gave Sorey a small warning and then heaved himself up onto the side of the bed that was still empty. Sorey never took his eyes off of him.

Mikleo’s fingers grasped the edge of his teal coat and pulled them over his knees. “…’m sorry, Sorey.”

“Me too,” Sorey said quietly. Mikleo’s violet eyes met his in surprise. “Guess it was pretty bad after all.”

Two weeks.

“But it’s not your fault,” Sorey added and Mikleo bowed his head. “It was just bad luck.”

Mikleo made a small sound of admittance. Maybe that’s what it was, but it still didn’t fully feel like it. When Gramps had heard just how bad Sorey’s injuries were and had gotten angry at them, Mason was the one to step in. Mikleo remembers the older seraph describing it all as ‘just an innocent mistake.’ Mikleo wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that; was that a different way of saying the same thing—that it was all just bad luck?

His eyes lifted to Sorey again. “Does it hurt?”

“Kinda.” Sorey shifted against the sheets and gasped softly. His green eyes shined wetly and he blinked. “Um. Yeah.”

“Can I help?”

Sorey’s head turned to Mikleo and his eyes blinked again. “I—I don’t know.”

Mikleo crawled under the covers. He brought himself as close as he dared to Sorey’s side without actually touching him. He reached out with a hand and took one of Sorey’s own, squeezing it like hope. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Sorey breathed out. A small smile appeared on his face, easing away lines of pain. “Thanks.”

The guilt hedging at the back of Mikleo’s mind slowly started to clear away. He sighed with relief and closed his eyes.

“Mikleo?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna stay here with me?” Sorey’s question came quietly; his eyes off to the side as he asked. “’Cuz…y’know, Gramps said two weeks. And two weeks is a long time, so if you get bored, that’s okay, too, you know? I just—“

“—Gramps says a lot of things,” Mikleo repeated quietly, a small note of humor in his voice. “But it’s okay. I have lots of books to read.”

Sorey looked to Mikleo again. For a moment, he was quiet. And then, slowly, a smile spread over his face. “Hey. Will you read them to me?”

Mikleo scoffed. He opened one bright amaranthine eye. “You'll fall asleep."

"Will not!"

"Will too."

"Well, whatever. You didn't answer my question!"

Mikleo pretended to think about it, both eyes open, now. "And if I do?”

“Then…” Sorey had to think for a minute of a suitable reward. He lifted his free hand out of the blanket to snap his fingers. “…then you’ll be the bestest friend ever? How does that sound?”

Mikleo hummed. “Okay. Make it _your_ bestest friend ever, and _maybe_ you might have a deal.”

Sorey laughed—and then regretted it with a large whine. “Yeah, okay,” he gritted out. “ _My_ bestest bestest _best_ friend ever. Deal.”

“Good.”

Mikleo tried not to smile. He pulled those words close to his heart and draped them around his shoulders like the overlarge beige scarf Sorey liked to lug around.

Sorey’s bestest bestest best friend ever.

It was a good start.


End file.
